Mother Tongue
by When the Moon Met the Sun
Summary: The resemblance is uncanny, and she doesn't know why she's never thought to ask either Morgan or their mother. Still, she'd rather know, so she finally asks. "Morgan, do you know Plegian?"
The thought strikes her while in the library, a book of Plegian legends cracked open in her lap. Morgan sits across from her on the window seat, sunlight catching the gold lettering on his thick tome. It's one she's sure she's seen her mother read, and that, as much as the fact that she can't seem to decipher the symbols, makes her curious.

"Morgan?"

Her brother hums in acknowledgement, tilting his head up toward her with his eyes still glued to the page. He's as engrossed as she's ever seen him, content to sit in the sun curled up with his book all day.

She smiles slightly to herself and stretches to jostle his leg with her boot. Morgan is all long limbs now, tall like their father, so he barely shifts to nudge her back. He smiles like him, too-though for every way he's like their father, there are two ways he's like their mother.

"Sorry, sorry, I got a little caught up," he says with a laugh and eyes like hers. "I'm paying attention now."

The resemblance is uncanny, and she doesn't know why she's never thought to ask. Maybe it's because the thought of Morgan sharing yet another thing with their mother makes her jealous, or maybe it's because she hasn't wanted to dwell too deeply on her heritage. Still, she'd rather know, so she asks, "Morgan, do you know Plegian?"

"Do I know Plegian?" He repeats, confused. "No, I don't think so. I think I'd remember if I did."

The answer is both a disappointment and a relief. "I'm sure you would. I just thought...never mind." Her gaze drifts down to the tome again, and Morgan chuckles a little.

"It's a book about runes," he clarifies and flips it around to show her his current page. "See? Plain old Ylissean."

Lucina leans in to confirm this, and sure enough, the text is dense but familiar. "I see," she murmurs, not quite satisfied.

Morgan, ever-observant, picks up on her tone, and his cheery smile fades into something more thoughtful. "Why do you ask?"

She sighs and snaps her book shut, leaning fully against the warm window. "Do you remember when Mother would tell us stories before bed?"

"I-no." Morgan frowns and shakes his head sadly.

"That's all right. You were probably too young," she says, handing him her book and directing him to one of the pages she'd dog-eared. "This one was your favorite."

"A sea witch, huh?" He sounds suspicious, but his smile is wide regardless as he pores over the passage.

"RIght before we'd fall asleep, she'd lean down and whisper I love you. In Plegian, I'm fairly certain," she continues.

"Do you-"

"No," she interrupts, almost laughing at the put out look on his face. "She never taught me either, and I can't remember how it goes anymore."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go find out!"

Morgan rights himself in a flurry of energy, cradling the book under his arm. He's halfway to the doors before Lucina can even comprehend what he means and fight back the giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

"Morgan!" she half-shouts, and he pauses to wait for her. She's overcome by doubt all of a sudden, and it quickly crushes her burgeoning hope. "Morgan, her memories are different, and she may not even-"

"Lucina," he says, playfully serious in the way only he can pull off, hands anchoring her by the shoulders. "She's our mother. What does it hurt to ask?"

It could, she thinks, because this mother isn't _their_ mother-not really. She hasn't thought that way since the middle of the war, and she hates that she's doing it now to shield herself from disappointment. She doesn't tell Morgan because it'd hurt him even worse. She simply lets him pull her around the castle until they find their mother.

Not surprisingly, her parents are huddled together in the Grandmaster's office, working on their landmark peace initiative, and Lucina almost immediately apologizes and drags her brother back out. It's only their mother's prompting (and the way Morgan digs his heels in) that stops her.

"You two are a breath of fresh air," their father says lightly, rounding the desk to lean against the front. "What's going on?"

Lucina doesn't want to say anything at all, and Morgan flounders for a second under their expectant gazes, her nervousness seeping into him. She's beginning to think he'll back out all together when he finally takes a deep breath and says, "We wanted to ask about...Plegia, if that's okay."

Lucina watches her father closely for his reaction, and true to form, he seems concerned, while her mother is only surprised.

"About the war?" Chrom presses, eyes drawn to their mother as she moves from behind the desk to the couch. It takes him seconds to join her.

"No, no!" Morgan clarifies. "Just about what Mother remembers about it. From before."

"My memories of Plegia, hm?" Robin replies, thoughtfully. "I can't remember everything, but I'll answer what I can."

Morgan nods, all smiles, and nudges Lucina's side. He's opened the gates for her, and she can ask for anything. So she does.

"Mother, we wanted to learn more about the legends," Lucina says, motioning Morgan forward with the book.

"The sea witch one, especially," Morgan adds eagerly.

She watches their mother flip through the pages, pointing out passages to their father, and one breath at a time, she relaxes. She smiles.

Morgan leans heavily over their father's shoulder to see, too, and the other spot beside their mother remains conspicuously empty. Morgan's eyes say it all, and she's never been more grateful for her keen little brother. Lucina sits, close enough to feel their mother's warmth.

Robin sighs pleasantly once she flips past the last story. "I don't think I know these stories better than the books do, but I might have a few new ones to tell. What else?"

"Um...what about your mother?" Morgan replies quietly before Lucina can speak. "We know all about Dad's, so maybe we can learn about yours, too."

Robin is quiet for a minute, and Lucina's hand finds its way into hers. Her mother squeezes once, and her voice is impossibly soft when she agrees.

"You could teach them the lullabies you sing to Luci and Morgs," Chrom adds, voice warm.

She fixes him with a teasing stare, and Lucina delights in their banter. "Those hardly count if I made up the words, you dork."

"I think they count," he argues, grinning at her. "It's your heritage, my love. Everything you are counts."

Everything counts, but Lucina only needs one thing.

"Plegian," she finds herself saying at last, her mother's hand tight in hers. "I want to learn to say 'I love you.'"

Her mother's smile beams like the desert sun.


End file.
